Why should one opinion matter so much
be the one that moves you
With a spring in your step
Or like death warmed over.

Why should one hand be
The exact fit with yours
Fingers entwined
and reassuring to the touch.

Why should one character meld
To the contours of yours
Leaving no scarred tissue
But giving you room to grow

I guess we were destined
To be together as one
Help each other through
the life left ahead.